Not Dead, Not Dreaming
by Miss Ami-chan
Summary: An alternate ending to Season 2. Inspired by my dislike for what happened and also something Jackie mentioned in the finale. 10xRose. What if the TARDIS had a way to make more Time Lords? complete
1. Chapter 1

I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. What you think is the best for me is not necessarily what I know is best for me. It doesn't matter if you're my mother, or my parallel universe father, or even some however many centuries old alien from another universe. I am the only one who knows what it is I want. I know sometimes I've screwed up, or my wants have changed, but on this, on this I am right and I know it, with every fibre of my being I know it.

But there isn't time. There isn't time to say all that. We have a time machine: a time and space machine, but there isn't time. So, all I say as I leave them standing there watching me in horror is, "I'm sorry!" and several cursed mutterings about getting the device to work, and of course, the passing hope that I don't whack myself straight into the void he was trying to build, but finally I feel that strange tingling blip and my head is all screwy for a moment and then...

"I sent you away for a reason!" he has that look. The one where you want to check and make sure you didn't just dribble all over yourself. The how dare you do something I didn't plan on. Really knowing me by now you'd think he would, but there we go. Doesn't know me. Doesn't matter what Mum said earlier either, about me turning like him, or becoming unrecognizable. Or. Don't think about Mum. You're never going to see her again...don't think about that! What did I just tell you? Work to be done.

"Isn't this a case of not best time to be arguing about this, big evil to defeat. Yell at me later. I -told- you I wasn't going anywhere, why the hell do you keep trying to push me away when you really need me?"

There's a pause. He gets that disgruntled look instead, the one that sorta goes hmm...the stupid monkey might have a point and my big gagillion year old brain didn't think of it, then he sighs, "Fine, okay. We'll talk about it later. Over there. It needs to be set to 634."

"That's more like it." I move to the computer he pointed out, and scan it. There's that moment, the usually expected WTF this makes NO sense, and then I see where I'm supposed to go, certainly takes over. I can hear the voice, going, 'Yes, that's it. There. 6-3-4. Click. Save. Move to the next one. That has to be 5-2-7...' I hesitate. How do I...did I?

"Time's a-wasting!" He says, then a pause, "What are you staring like that for? Didn't you just lecture me about--"

"Five-Two-Seven?"

"Five-Two-Seven-Five-Nine," he nods, "That's the back-up phase, if things don't work the way they should. A just in case. It's a program line that will turn off power to the whole buildi..." he looks at me.

"And I knew that how?"

He pulls the 3D glasses off and puts them in his pocket, "Never mind. Take this." He scurries over and hands me what looks like a giant clamp, with a vacuum seal on the back, "Stick it to the wall over there, and hold on tight. I doubt you want to get sucked into the void with a million daleks and hundreds of thousands of cybermen."

"I don't know. Interesting vacation."

He gives me a look.

"I was kidding! God, you do that all the time." Clamp. Red button, right. I let go. Huh. It does stick. Doesn't look like even an earthquake could shift it. Whole building could collapse and it'd still be there sticking to the wall. Anyway...

"You can hold it?"

"Going to have to, aren't I?"

So, we turn, and we pull the levers down. You'd think some institute as advanced as ruddy Torchwood would have buttons or some kind of computer program, not just levers, or even some kind of void-cleanser, that would have been good. Pull, pull, lock, grab. The sensation of being sucked towards the void is...special. Weightlessness, but...not. Goosebumps over my entire body. Add to that the wanting to duck every time a metal monster flies passed, and disappears. I guess they'll kill each other in the void. That's okay, right?

I thought I...

I suppose it's better that way. It was just the Daleks right then and there at the Station. The emperor was obliterated. I'll have to ask him about these. I mean, they had names. That didn't seem like a Dalek thing. I think I saw it briefly then, I mean I could see everything, everywhere. EVERYTHING. It makes my brain feel like liquid to try and even remembr it. If he hadn't. If I had stayed that way...I remember my uncle who had the stroke. It would have been worse than that. Well, maybe not. I would have actually been dead.

If I went into the void...I think about turning my head to look at it, but I don't want to see. I don't want to think about the billions of Cybermen and Daleks who are about to go through that thing, or about anything else that's to do with the void. My family. Mickey. None of it. Mum will be happy with Pete. I know she's going to be mad, and upset and hurt, but Pete is with her, and as much as she bitched about him when he was first there, there is that connection. When I met him I could feel it. The same as when I actually met Dad.

"Hold! On! Tight!" he yells, "Keep! Hold!"

"You TOO!"

It's easier said than done. I'm so scared. My hands are sweating. I can feel my grip slipping, and the lever doesn't look that much better.  
I could almost swear that it's moving...crap, that can't be good...I'm about to yell my observation when the building announces for me that the power is going and the vortex is going to close too soon if the power doesn't get restored. I wonder again why the heck they didn't just give the whole system a touch pad or computer station rather than these stupid levers. There's nothing for it but to try and inch my way over, because I'm definitely closer to it than the Doctor, and unless he manifests some alien ability to move things with his mind the only option.  
I start to edge around, and try to stretch out. It's gotta be the hardest thing I've ever done, and with the Doctor that happens pretty much regularly. I mean, we have the vortex or void or whatever it is behind trying with the strength of about ten thousand men to pull me the opposite direction, but at least that'll make it easier to pull the lever because that's the way it has to go.

Just out of reach of my finger tips...just a little further, just a little. Got it!

Of course, now completely off the wall-hold, with sweaty hands, and nrrrrr...this is going to be interesting. Hopefully it doesn't have to go on for much longer. Hopefully. Please? I can't see a clock or a countdown from here, and there's no way to tell with the steady stream of silver and bronze whipping past us if that's getting slower, or winding up.

Just take it one second at a time. One second at a time.

Fingers slipping. Crap.

"Rose!"

"I'm okay! Not going anywhere!" I try to pull forward a bit, yeah...thousands of men pulling in the opposite direction, like that's going to happen. I'm strong from gymnastics and some of the other stuff we've had to do over the past couple of years, but not that strong. I doubt even a cyberman could do this. The lever would probably break then and I'd go spinning into the void anyway...hm. Crap. There's this one little tiny part of me that's being really tempted to point out how this would not have happened if I hadn't decided to come back here, but then what would the Doctor have done? If this happened while he was by himself there'd be no one here to fix it and the Cybermen and Daleks would still be here...

"Rose, hold on!" I can see him reaching towards me, reaching, but there's a chasm between us, a chasm and a vortex and the entire universe almost and then...


	2. Chapter 2

And then one metal hand. One metal hand is what does it all.

Large thick strong, cyberman obviously and a misplaced flail as it is sucked through the portal, and I think, that's it...I'm going through with them, except then there's a hard slam against my back and side, and heat, and pressure and pain and wetness, and a lot of weight, a lot of weight around my middle and tearing, is that my flesh tearing? and I realize, other than OWWWWWWW, this really sucks. It hurts. That's pain. Ow. But the wind has stopped, the sucking motion I'm not being pulled anywhere. I can't see anything. Is that what the void is like? Just black nothing, and nowhere. No wind. No heat. No...

...I realize my eyes are closed.

I open them.

I'm looking down. There's metal. More metal. It shouldn't be there.

My hands move reflexively to grab it, to touch it, to make sure it's really there. Metal. Sticking out of my chest. Blood spurting and pooling out of it. I realize my legs, my hands they're starting to feel really, really cold. Everything. My teeth wanting to chatter.

My feet aren't quite touching the floor. I can move my feet and my toes touch just before they go point like a ballerina, and he's next to me, looking mortified, shocked, upset, anguished, despairing. He can't do anything about this. He wants to, but he can't. He couldnt' for his people. He can't for me, just like we couldn't for Dad, or his people, or that psychic maid, or any of the people we encountered. So, many times we've been close to death and missed, just like we've seen so many wonderful things. Well, maybe now I don't have to worry about that whole growing old with...

"I'm sorry..." he says, "I'm so sorry, I..." he puts his hands to my face, and his hand feels so hot.

I put my hand up to his, and I leave a sticky red mark, I can smell and taste copper. It's really not so much fun, but there's something...something I remember from before.

That bright yellow and white light, touching all around me setting every nerve of my body on fire. Me. TARDIS. Both of us, together, in one space, in one body, and she was talking about fixing things. We meant fixing the Daleks right? fixing that. They were broken. They weren't supposed to be there. They...but it'll be okay.

I can feel myself telling him this, disjointed, separate, listening to TARDIS they talk about replaying life but that's the only part I'm replaying.

I remember that. We have to fix things. The universe it needs the Time Lords. it needs all of them, and everything all of this. They have to be here, so that things like the Daleks breaking reality doesn't happen again. So that things like this, Cybermen and Daleks hiding in the void between worlds doesn't happen again, unnoticed flipping from one side to another. Without the Time Lords more of this will happen.

The Doctor he said trans-time-line travel wasn't supposed to happen and it's not. He was right about that. If there were more Time Lords it would have been seen. They may no everything and be in so many places at once, but before there were more, and things were easier. I remember now how TARDIS told it, at the time there was too much information. So much of it flowing through my brain. The Bad Wolf. The pain. The pain for the TARDIS at everything that had happen. She's the last one of her kind as well, and the Doctor the last of his. They've been together so long, and now they're the only ones. She wanted to help, but she's never really been able to do things like this before, and I did too. I didn't want to leave him. I don't now. I don't. I don't. This isn't fair.

_You're not listening._

She's right. I'm not.

I have to remember what we did. Why things have been going the way they have. I looked into the Eye. I looked into the Eye and she talked to me. I begged. I pleaded. We have to help him. There has to be something. He sent me away because he knew things weren't going to work out. She said. She showed me, all the ways that things could be then. How if he made the wave it would destroy everything, and we both know that he's not going to do that, and if he didn't make the way the Daleks would destroy everything, which would not be good. The Emperor, nuts...and not supposed to be there. None of it. TARDIS, the time vortex, bristling, in pain. Things were wrong. Together, we could fix it. Together we can fix everything.

The Time Lords, because there are other places to watch, and immortal or no you can't go from one end of everywhere to the other and keep an eye on everything without more own path crossings and breaks and lines and cock-ups until finally everything just goes kerphlooooeeey. And. That. Would. Be. Bad.

_But we can't do anything while there's a big piece of metal lever stuck through your chest. _

"Out." This part I realize. I try to lift my hands up but everything's puppet with their strings cut.

"You're not making sense..." he says, "I'm so sorry. I failed you. I promised Jackie, I promised you, that you'd be okay, and look what I've done..."

"No. I did it. I'm stubborn and I don't listen. Mum always said that, and you didn't break the lever and impale me, that was the cyberma-ow," I'm agitated, trying to talk with my hands and the movement, jarring "But now you..." I point at him. This time it works a little better but I feel almost like I'm drunk, my hand kinda flops and flails, "You listen to us. It will be okay. As long as we get this out. I try to grab and pull it, but my hands are slick with blood and so is that part of the lever, "Pull it out. If you can't wrap your hyper-brain around the reason, just look it as I don't want to die stuck to a wall in Canary Wharf, would you please?"

Finally he moves and pulls, and jumps to try and help me as I stumble and more blood, lots more blood, and falling and sliding, and now we're on the floor, together, in a painful heap. Knowing, because of what it did, where it punctured, ambulance, not worth it, never get here, so much other stuff they're dealing with. Lots of blood, but okay, so okay, it'll be okay.

He shifts under me, around me, so we're in bloody mess, leaning against the wall. Me in his lap, my head, soft, things are soft and squishy.

Ice cream. Like ice cream or soggy chips. I find myself laughing at this, and he looks down.

"Do I have something on my face?"

"Only your nose..." I find myself giggling.

"My nose? That's it? I must look really odd then. I'm sorry."

"No. I mean your nose is, and my head feels like soggy chips. Everything's gooshy."

He touches my nose, "I am sorry..." he says.

"I know. You keep going on like that. It's not your fault."

His face clouds, and I vaguely remember the war, his war, not our war, or the other war. That war, and the Daleks, and whatever happened, whatever he did, well the other him, the one with the coat. U-Boat captain, and I reach up to his face, "the only reason you're taking responsibility..." and I realize the words are not entirely mine now they're hers too, she's reaching out, we still have that link, but a blue box no matter how big, it doesn't have arms, "...is because you have survivor's guilt. You're the only one who survived. The only one left, but we can fix that, not you and I, she and I and we will. It's just been so long since you've seen this from the other side..." and I realize for a moment, while this is talking. I can let go. I can let go just for now and in another moment I will be back, because what does such a short time mean now when things, things will be that much longer, and going on together.

So, I do.

And it's warm, and it's lovely, just like when I looked into her heart, and her eye and we agreed to help. Detached and miles away I feel my skin, every atom of my being tingling again. Everything on fire, and prickling. All that energy. Everything spiraling down into blackness, and brightness all at the same time, and then I see him. He's walking towards me out of the brightness, but it's not him, it's her, it's...

"Rose.." they say, "You get to choose."

"I...what?" all I can think of is that stupid kids show with the pocket balls, "What do you mean I get to choose?"


	3. Chapter 3

They smile softly, "I know this is strange for you, but it will get better, I promise. It will get so much better."

I try not to blink at them and look stupid. I have a suspicion as to what they're talking about, but despite everything I've already seen and been through these past two years it's hard for me to wrap my brain around, "What do I get to choose?"

"How you look," there's a sly smile, "It's going to be very rough for at least the next day, but after that things should vastly improve. You've already started to see some of it..."

I hesitate, and then I recall just before calculating things, and reading them. I'd convinced myself it was some strange flashback after effect of the bat-people's chip oil, and what Mum said. She said each time she saw me I looked different, of course, she looked different to me too because of how the time was working, so I thought it was that, but is it..., "I'm changing...I'm not human any more."

"You're still human to a point, at the moment. You will still be you, but the universe needs Time Lords, not just a Time Lord. The Doctor can't continue by himself, and you, he and you, together. If this works you can rebuild things, and stop the Daleks or any one else taking advantage of the fact that there is only one Time Lord," they pause, "and as you've seen there's lots of fall out damage in the time stream that also needs to be sorted out."

"The Gelf..."

"Among other things...so choose..."

I hesitate again. A million different looks flit through my mind, "You mean I could look like anyone? But The Doctor, he was all surprised by how he looked, he'd wanted to be red, but he wasn't..."

"Things are different with him."

"Well, apparently...but..." I sigh, it would just be wrong, "I want to know myself, at least. I want to look like me...but..." I hesitate, "this is going to sound really wrong, but..." I grab my chest for a second, "a bit better here...and well, blonde for real, so I don't have to be buying peroxide everywhere, right? I don't want to scare him too much, I remember how it was for me when he changed...I thought he'd been abducted and replaced, even though he tried to tell me, and he doesn't know does he?"

There's a slight smile, "No, he doesn't. He'll work it out, he isn't stupid."

"Well, no...he's just a stubborn fool at times."

Another smile, "I've known him for a while, so I certainly understand." There's a pause, "Alright, then...it will hurt a bit, and it will be strange. I don't promise that you won't be confused, but after a while, it will all come back to you. You're growing an extra heart for one...and from what I understand of physical beings that sort of thing is painful."

"Great..." I mutter, but hey, what can I complain about really? I would be dead otherwise, and that's not something I really want to have happen. I'm quite attached to living. Sure, it's going to be weird, my parents, sort of and Mickey are trapped in another dimension, but they'll be alright. They have each other. They'll get over it, and I know the Doctor's lost people a bajillion times before, but I promised. I promised him that I wouldn't leave. I take a deep breath, "Okay, do your worst."

She doesn't quite understand, but I feel different. I feel like I'm chained all of a sudden, attached to a chain and being pulled back. Heaviness. Warmth but also shivering, everything's swirls and atoms and spinning, spinning so fast, I feel like I'm going to fall off the edge, I reach, with...hands...and I grab and I claw, and I, it's...what is this? It's metal, but not, it's...

"Rose? Rose!" he reaches for me, this man, and I want to scrabble away.

My chest is heaving, each lungful of air burns, no, my chest, pain. There's pain...I curl up.

"Rose..." he puts his arms around me, and lifts me towards him. I see his face, his face is wet. I reach towards, but my whole body is tingling, and the spinning, "How...?" a pause, then a cock-eyed smile, "Oh, you tricky little..." he smacks the wall behind him, and slowly I realize he's moved us, we're in the ship. There was a building. They...someone would have been coming, and it wouldn't have been safe, so he moved us, and probably TARDIS as well, all the while we were talking, then he squeezes me very tightly in a very big hug, and as nice as it is I want to puke, "How the devil are you?" he remarks.

"Uggggggh..." is all I manage, and I slide away from him, and try to actually puke, but there's nothing there, and then, "I think it was...easier...for you..."

"At first last time yes...but there've been times, it's been very, very hard...come on," and he pulls me to my feet, and we slowly, carefully, drunkenly, painfully, make our way to one of TARDIS' back rooms, so that I can flop into a bed, and just sleep for a while. It takes a lot of energy to grow new internal organs, and a lot of shifting around to make them fit into the container they're in, and all the while, through all the shivers, and the crying and the muttered curses, and the dizziness, as I realize that I'm now aware of the spin of the earth, the turn of the universe, and how tiny and insignificant this little planet is in the scheme of things, and how each moment is a fleeting instant, he is my constant. He holds me in his arms, and cradles me against the beating of his hearts.


End file.
